The Hour Before Dawn
by SpaceRoses
Summary: Years before he was the Leading Man a sixteen year old Judge made a choice that would change his life and send him out into the world, completely unaware of the destiny that he was shaping.


**Disclaimer**: Everything belongs to the genius at Square Enix. I'm just borrowing for my own amusement and for some writing practice. Don't sue me!

**Author's Note:** Man…been a long time since I wrote any fan-fiction. I'm feeling rusty…O.o Anyways, my take on the events that drove Balthier from Arcadia back in the days before he was the Leading Man. I made a few of my own assumptions about his backstory, for instance naming his two older brothers and guessing that before Venat came into their lives Balthier and Cid were close to each other. I might add more onto this later…what do you guys think?

**The Hour Before Dawn**

Running up the steep, twisting stairs out of Old Archades, Ffamran mied Bunansa panted quietly in the heavy Judge armor. He was leaving the quickly dwindling sounds of the battle behind him. The noise of screams and fires had replaced the echo of guns and clashing swords some time ago.

At the top of the stairs stood an imposing figure, clearly a Judge Magister from his elaborate helmet and armor. He turned when he heard the younger Judge running up to him.

Ffamran skidded to a stop, snapping a quick salute. "The crowds have been disbanded Judge Magister Ghis," His voice echoed oddly in the helmet. "And the riot is over. We are falling back to this point sir, as ordered."

Ghis nodded toward Ffamran, not bothering to look at him. "Good."

Ffamran hesitated before adding, "Should we concentrate efforts on putting out the fires and assisting the people?"

The unorthodox suggestion caught Ghis's attention and he finally glanced toward the younger man. "Why would we do that Judge Bunansa?" His tone was accusing. "They started the riot; the rats can clean their own trap."

"Only a few of the people started it." He protested as a few other Judges trickled in; all bearing bloody weapons and only a few sporting minor injuries. "And it was not a fair fight sir." His youthful voice cracked slightly before he steadied it.

"What _would_ be a fair fight Judge Bunansa?"Ghis's tone bore the weight of a challenge in it as he turned fully to face the younger man.

Ffamran reached up to unclip his helmet, pulled it off and dropped it on the ground next to him. His dark eyes flashed accusingly at the man across from him, the first hints of hatred and self-loathing flickering to life in them.

"We were in full armor sir, armed with swords, spears and the most advanced guns. They were in rags, armed with sticks, shovels and rocks. How is _that_, by any measure of the gods, a fair fight?"

"We put down a riot. We were not sent here to engage equals in combat. If you want to do that you have your off-duty time to spar with your comrades."

"We were not 'putting down' anything your honor." Ffamran struggled to keep his rising disgust in check. "It was simply a massacre."

The last few Judges had arrived as Ffamran finished speaking and a small murmur of agreement ran through their ranks. He continued.

"Even when they begged for mercy we shot them down like dogs. All they wanted was a chance for a better life. There are no jobs here, there is no way for them to make money and yet they must pay a small fortune to gain access into the city. There is no sin in a man wanting more out of his life sir.

"You sound rather sympathetic Bunansa." Ghis growled, sarcasm filling his words, "That raises some questions about how loyal you are to our ranks."

Ffamran's face paled very slightly but he set his jaw, "We are the upholders of law and order." He repeated. "And that was _not_ law and we are _not_ leaving Old Archades in any kind of order." He never took his eyes off of Ghis but gestured behind himself, toward the stairs. "That…that **villainy** is not what we stand for Your Honor."

"Quite the impassioned speech Bunansa. Perhaps you should give up the Judges and join your older brother in the Senate." Ghis reached down, placing his hand near his sword handle.

Ffamran reacted when he spotted Ghis's subtle movement, his own hand moving toward his gun. "It's the truth sir." He replied simply.

Ghis's covered eyes seemed to sweep over the group of Judges, studying their postures. "Do you all agree with Bunansa?" He demanded.

Before any of the other Judges could answer, the sound of footfalls at the base of the stairs and a sudden cry of "There they are!" followed by another one of "Get the Judges!" broke in on the rising argument.

As one the unit of Judges turned toward the small gang of rebels gathering at the bottom of the stairs and drew their weapons.

The rebels paused for a brief moment as they eyed the party of well-armed soldiers but the belief that they had nothing to lose lent them unnatural courage and they charged.

Ffamran ducked a wildly swung rake handle and shot at the man wielding it, his bullet meant to injure rather than kill him. The man went down; screaming as he clutched at his shoulder and Ffamran turned his attention to the next man.

Twisting away from a rebel swinging his broken shovel Ffamran spotted Ghis cut down a third rebel even as the man scrambled across the ground for his knife. Ffamran paused, the battle dimming around him as cold rage began to seep into his veins. It was all pointless…it should never have come to this battle. There should never have been a rebellion down here in the first place. If the Judges had truly been doing the duty that they had sworn to fulfill, rather than merely fulfilling the duty to their own coffers and encouraging their own bloodlust, this never would have happened.

Then the solution came to Ffamran, a solution so simple that he was amazed he had failed to think of it earlier. If the other Judges were not doing their duties then he, as a Judge sworn to uphold law and order, had to remove the people who were destroying that very order.

Acting on his impulse, instead of crediting it to his anger and the battle surging around him, Ffamran raised his gun, aiming at Ghis's head. One of the weak points in a Judge's helm was the space between the eye-holes; the metal had to be cast thinly there so that an unnatural weight would not press down on the bridge of the nose.

Just as he squeezed off his shot one of the other Judges spotted him, slamming into Ffamran and knocking him to the ground, his shot going low, hitting into and ricocheting off of Ghis's shoulder guard.

Ffamran crashed into the blood-slicked stone, slamming his head against the ground as stars shot across his vision for an instant. Frantically he blinked, trying to clear his head as dimly he could hear the older Judge shouting at him.

"What has gotten into you Bunansa?" The Judge's words finally became clear as Ffamran slowly sat up and looked around. The last of the rebels had been routed back down the stairs, several of their number lay on the ground unmoving, and Ghis lay on the ground also, stunned despite the fact that the bullet had not penetrated his armor. One of the other Judge's was attending to him.

. "Oh Spirits!" He gagged as he spotted the prone Judge Magister, nausea replacing his rage. "I didn't kill him did I?" Instantly he felt remorseful for his actions.

"No." The other Judge shook her head, "He is just stunned." She eyed Ffamran for a moment, expression unreadable behind her helm, "What were you trying to do?" She demanded after Ffamran had had a moment to absorb what had happened.

Shakily, grateful that he had not killed Ghis despite his earlier wishes, Ffamran slowly drew his knees up, rested his elbows against them and covered his face. "I…I don't know." He admitted. "I don't really remember. Everything went black for a moment there…I was angry at him. Beyond angry at this whole fiasco and then it just…came to me!" He rubbed at his face, trying to draw the memory out and forgetting that he was speaking to another Judge. "But I don't know what in Ivalice convinced me to actually TRY it!"

His career…his station…his _life_ was as good as over. He had tried to kill his superior officer…he'd tried to kill a _Judge Magister_. He would be executed for treason, or, at the very least, imprisoned for life. That thought made him feel sicker and he gagged again, swallowing quickly to keep the contents of his stomach in their place.

The older Judge watched him for a moment before sighing, "You are young and, despite Dr. Cid's assurances, I believe sixteen is not an adult. This was a trying combat and a great shock for someone your age that has, so far, only seen the fairer side of life." She placed her hand on Ffamran's shoulder, "I shall cover for you _this_ time Judge Bunansa but you must learn to get control of your temper. A Judge cannot be ruled by his passions but, rather, must always think of the good of the whole."

He looked up at her, studying the imposing helmet before nodding, "Thank you Judge Drace." His voice still shook but the gratitude came through clearly.

Drace stood up, offering him a hand up as well before turning to attend to Ghis.

Ghis had stood up slowly, his helmet now resting in the crook of his arm as he swept his eyes over the whole party. "What happened?" He carefully enunciated each word, studying each Judge for a tell-all flinch or movement that would make the truth clear.

"One of the rebels threw a rock during the battle." Drace said evenly, "It hit you."

Ffamran, still dazed, studied Ghis's face as he listened to Drace's lie. Silently he hoped that the old man would believe her.

"Do all of you agree to this?" Ghis studied the Judges, each one shifting nervously under the Judge Magister's close scrutiny.

Finally one of the other Judges spoke up, the shake in his voice hidden behind the echo of his helmet. "To be honest, Your Honor, none of us saw what happened. One minute you were standing up and fighting, in the next you were down sir. If Judge Drace saw what happened I would be inclined to believe her word as none of the rest of us saw anything worthwhile."

Ghis waited a beat and glanced at Drace and Ffamran before speaking, "A rock. I see." He looked down at his nicked armor. "Those rebels will fight with anything they can get their hands on. They are worse than a barbarian horde." As he spoke those words his sharp eyes darted to Ffamran's face and met the younger man's own eyes.

Ffamran drew his breath in. Ghis knew the truth. Ghis knew that he had tried to kill him. Frantically he tried to guess why Ghis was going along with the story. What did he want? What could he gain by agreeing to the lie? Slowly the truth dawned on Ffamran.

It had to be blackmail of some kind and the price was Ffamran's life. He would have to do anything that the cold-hearted Judge Magister demanded of him or find himself on Executioner's Row. A fresh bout of nausea accompanied his realization.

The Judge Magister now knew that Ffamran had a soft spot for the innocent and unfortunate in the world. Left unchecked, Ghis would dig a knife into that chink in Ffamran's armor and twist it cruelly until Ffamran either rebelled or became as twisted as Ghis himself.

As the group of Judges where dismissed Ffamran's mind wheeled, aware of both Drace's concerned glance in his direction and Ghis's venomous glare aimed at his back. He had to find a way out…he had to find an out in which he did not have to lose his life, his freedom, or his soul.

He barely remembered stumbling into the air cab in his bloody armor, mumbling the addresses of his family home up on the upper levels of the city, and then climbing back out of the cab when the address was reached. The next thing he clearly remembered was standing on the front steps of the Bunansa home, staring at the imposing door as air cabs purred over his head and a cold wind dried the sweat on his face.

Finally a dash of clarity came to him. His father was well-known in court, a personal friend of Vayne Solidor and the head of Draklor Laboratories. If anyone in Arcadia could help him, his father could.

And, privately, Ffamran liked to think that he and Cid had a special bond, one that Randin or Handel had never achieved. Letting himself into the house he ran down the main hallway, intent on the stairs which would lead him to his father's study.

His armor clattered nosily on the smooth, polished wood floor but, for the moment, he had forgotten that there was anyone else in the house but himself and his father. Taking the stairs as quickly as he could he paused in the carpeted hall for an instant before tearing off down the wing that Cid's study was on.

The light was still burning in Cid's study and Ffamran pushed the door open, expecting to find his father bent over one of his books or some airship design. He was not disappointed.

"Father!" He did not wait for Cid to acknowledge his presence but burst in, his troubles written all over his youthful face.

Cid did not look up from the design that he was studying, instead sliding his eyes sidewise to the spot of empty air at his shoulder. "What was that Venat?" He asked quietly.

Ffamran's face paled, "Father." He repeated again. "I need your help. I did something incredibly foolish tonight and I fear… ." He trailed off as Cid continued to whisper to the air.

For the second time that night anger filled Ffamran's heart. He reached across the table his father was leaning over, remembering only at the last minute that he needed to be gentle, and gripped his father's shoulders, his hands shaking in their gauntlets.

"Father, listen to me!" His voice was low but urgent, desperation and fear surging under his words. "Forget about this Venat fantasy of yours! I am real, me, Ffamran. Your _son_. As your son I implore your help!" Unbidden by him desperate, exhausted tears sprang into the corners of his eyes and threatened to spill.

Cid finally glanced toward Ffamran, not seeming to notice his son's distress and being deaf to his plea. "Ah Ffamran. You're home…I was beginning to think that Ghis would keep you out all night. Better get out of that armor, clean it up before it begins to rust and go to bed. I'll be at my work for some time to come." Almost before he had finished speaking to his son his head turned to the side again, "Venat, I'm afraid you'll find my son is prone to being dramatic and overwrought about little things."

Ffamran tightened his grip on Cid's shoulders, his gauntlets snagging on the delicate embroidery. "Father! Listen to me!" He begged again. "I tried to kill Judge Magister Ghis! I didn't mean to but I still did! Judge Drace tried to help me cover it up but Ghis still knows! I fear he intends to ruin our entire family!"

His father was still speaking to the air, talking over Ffamran's words.

"Dammit!" Ffamran spat violently, "There is only air at your shoulder Father! There is no angel of wisdom there or spirit of knowledge! It is just air! But I am here, flesh-and-bone here!" His voice cracked. "Listen to me! Please!"

With an air of irritated exasperation Cid looked toward his youngest son, "You're tired and overwrought Ffamran. Go to bed. We can talk in the morning after you've calmed down and you're done telling stories. Trying to kill a Judge Magister," He scoffed. "Those tales suit a Sky Pirate, Ffamran, _not_ a Judge."

Slowly Ffamran's hands unclenched from Cid's shoulders and he stumbled back half a step as if his father had punched him in the gut. His pale face grew paler still and his mouth worked but no words came out. Nodding blindly, trying not to gag on the mix of the strangled scream getting caught in his throat and the bile working up from his stomach, he stumbled for the door.

As he made the automatic move to close the door behind him the last words he heard his father say were, "I see it now Venat! Yes, yes! The reigns of history, back in the hands of men!"

Ffamran slammed the door shut harder then he truly needed too and slid down the wood paneling, shakily landing in a metal and blood covered heap on the carpet. His father had forsaken him for his own madness; and without having to ask he knew that his brothers would not aid him. Randin would only worry about how Ffamran's actions would affect his own career and Handel would be too muddle brained to figure out that there was even a problem. His mother had enough to do that Ffamran was reluctant to add to her burden and, besides, what could she truly do for him anyways?

Slowly he tried to sort through his desperately short list of options. There was no one in all of Arcadia who could help him and he had precious few friends in other countries.

Except for Al-Cid…

It was the first real, dependable idea he'd had since all of this began. Al-Cid lived in Rozzaria but he was still Ffamran's best friend. He'd be willing to help him...

Slowly Ffamran pulled himself upright, for the first time noticing the long scratches he'd left on the woodwork. He ran a reluctant hand over them before he turned his steps toward his own rooms. He would have to lay his plans carefully but quickly…even now Ghis could be setting his own trap for Ffamran. The first thing he had to do was get out of this armor…

Ffamran's steps became quicker and more determined. He had just bought the _Strahl_, rescuing it from its intended destruction. He could take his ship out to "test" it and no one would be the wiser until he never returned that afternoon. By that point he would be half-way to Rozzaria.

Half-way to his freedom.


End file.
